the world is not just an idea in god’s mind
where upon what do mad fingers play
our lives all along,
like a wicked wizard trick that never had
any joy in its song?
life like god was amused with all that he
created so great:
a block of ice, a trick of rocks done for him
evil trade, laughing snake.
justice delayed is justice betrayed and although
i never knew
a blind man’s couch, a drunken man’s doubt
a nothing you,
despite all that i like to think
of all that’s been
as once upon a child’s story—a wish full
of more than sin.
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